


Queen or thief of my heart?

by Darknessisafriend



Category: Gladiator (2000)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27532315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darknessisafriend/pseuds/Darknessisafriend
Summary: The reader is poor and is mistaken for stealing from a street vendor, and she is brought before Emperor Commodus to be killed but upon seeing her, he recognizes her as a childhood friend of his...will he save her life as a token of the past?
Relationships: Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus | Emperor Commodus/Reader
Kudos: 4





	Queen or thief of my heart?

You were quietly eating an apple and bread that you had bought with the little money you had earned…probably the only meal you will get today. You were so hungry that you barely payed attention to the veiled woman running past you.

“It’s her! Arrest her!” Your head suddenly turned towards the man screaming this, a rich merchant, you usually begged for money next to his shop; he was pointing his finger in your direction and four imperial guards had their eyes locked on you. You hadn’t stolen anything! Keeping well your food in your hands, you turned around and started to run away, like a thief but you knew all too well what was done to people of your rank, even more so to a young homeless woman, rape and death and forgotten of all.

You ran as fast you could despite your stomach grumbling with hunger and your rather weak state; but it wasn’t enough against the well feed and trained imperial guards. And before you could understand what was happening, you were tackled to the ground, your chin hitting the ground hard, cutting your lower lip in the process. You gasped as one of them grabbed you by the hair while the others pulled you up.

“You are going to pay for stealing from the Emperor’s favorite merchant, thief!” growled one of the guards before seizing your chin, ignoring the blood trickling on it “And when the Emperor decides your fate, we will have fun with you pretty thing.” He smirked, detailing your body lewdly.

“I didn’t steal anything! Please you’ve mistaken me for somebody else!” you tried to argue but what were your words against the supplier of the Emperor?

“I request that she is taken before Caesar!” requested the merchant, furious. This had to be all some kind of nightmare, you didn’t want to see him, he had the reputation of a bloodthirsty man; and you didn’t want him to see you. You much preferred to remember the nice man he used to be.

“No! please!” you begged them as they dragged you to the palace. They kept laughing and mocking you, they already knew your fate and it was a deadly one…

Commodus was sitting at his study, as usual in his afternoon working on grievances from the Senate. There was always so many, each day it didn’t decrease, and it grew on his nerves, he felt like whatever he did, it was never enough. He was suddenly pushed out of his thoughts by a slave announcing a crime against him, the Emperor had been perpetrated. Those simple words made his blood boil, who had dared to attack him!? He headed for the throne room, actually this interruption was welcome, he needed to let off some steam and perhaps punishing a traitor would do him good. Once seated, he motioned for the guards to let in the criminal. The merchant who had been stolen and accused you, followed you; and the guards, he wanted to be sure you would be punished, and he wanted to see.

Commodus tilted his head as he looked at you, your head hanging down, a young woman apparently. His eyes carelessly left you to focus on the merchant; he recognized the man who supplied him with his imperial clothing and jewels…so that was the crime, stealing this merchant was stealing the Emperor and therefore a lack of respect. He hated those who disrespected him.

“She stole a necklace! One my most precious one! It could have fitted your sister, your majesty.” Explained the merchant, his nostrils dilatated like an angry bull “I request that she is punished at the level of her crimes against your sacred person. She is homeless, I will never be reimbursed.” In short, he was requesting either your torture by flogging and other abuses by the guards or sent to work in state mines. Commodus distractingly rubbed his chin with his index as he thought, that girl was probably stealing to survive, none of his children should be left hungry and homeless; but if he tolerated to be stolen, it could be perceived as a sign of weakness, not being able to make hard decisions or perhaps would they see him as merciful? He sighed; what punishment would fit best?

But his trail of thoughts was interrupted by your crying’s. You couldn’t help but cry; you didn’t have a great life, but you were innocent, and you didn’t want to die. Commodus sighed again and with a simple gesture of his hand motioned for a guard to lift your head and make you look at him. You winced as one grabbed your hair, pulling them back and making you face the feared Emperor.

His eyes stared straight into yours, open wider than it should, that face…he knew you; he had seen you somewhere….and you looked at him helplessly, hoping he would recognize you and perhaps spare you as a token of the past. He hadn’t changed at all, it was still those chubby cheeks, those piercing deep green eyes that seemed now tired and those raven hair, although shorter now compared to what you remembered.

“Tell me your name.” he finally spoke after long seconds of silence, his face still baring the signs of confusion.

“Y/N, Caesar.” You answered, letting him hear your voice. Y/N…he had known someone named the same way in the past, as a child, in the very same corridors of this palace…was it you?

“Leave merchant. You will receive money to compensate for the loss caused by that theft. Rest assured that I will personally take care of her case.” Spoke Commodus, decided to assure you were the Y/N he had known.

“But your-”

“You dare to contest my orders merchant? If you wish to continue to dress your Caesar, I advise you to leave. Now.” Cutting him off Commodus coldly. He was in no mood to be contested.

“Yes, Caesar. Forgive me, Caesar.” The man bowed; his voice filled with fear, before leaving in a hurry, in case the Emperor would change his mind. Your heart was racing, what was he going to do to you now?

“If you allow me to explain…my mother used to work at the service of your family, she knew your father Marcus Aurelius…” you spoke without permission, but you had to try.

“Shut it!” groaned a guard, lifting his hand and ready to strike you in the face. But the Emperor, with a click of his tongue told him not to intervene and let you talk.

“Continue.”

“My mother was one of the cooks serving your majesty and your deceased father. I helped…well, at my modest manner considering my age at the time…” you explained. To these words, Commodus had suddenly memories surging back…

_He was wandering down the corridors, everything silent as his father was away. As always, he was left alone with his sister and caretakers. Quietly, he escaped the watch of his caretakers to slide into the kitchen, cooks and servants busy preparing lunch and not daring to say anything to the little heir of the Emperor. His eyes locked on the little girl with y/h/c hair; she shyly looked at him before reaching for a plate of delicacies and presenting it to him. He couldn’t help but smile, she seemed so nice, she payed attention to him and without fear or judgements …he was just a young boy she seemed to like. And with time it had become a habit, to go to Y/N, pretend to need food just to be able to see her, talk to her…_

“But when I finally reached the age to serve your majesty properly, my mother died of illness. My father begged Marcus Aurelius to keep me at your service…but he answered I was too young and inexperienced to serve in the kitchens of your majesty…whereas I had grown up in them.” You explained with pain, you had expected more mercy from the famous Marcus Aurelius.

_He stood next to his father; watching as the man begged for his daughter to remain at the service of the Emperor. “Please your majesty, she has spent much time here, she will learn fast! She needs to support her household, her brothers and sisters.” Begged the man in despair “I hear you well citizen. Unfortunately, I can only keep the best and those who have proven themselves to be vital.” Commodus clenched his fists under the words of his father. No matter how gentle his tone was, the meaning of the words was the same. And he was wrong, Y/N she was vital, to him. His light in the darkness of his life. But he couldn’t do anything, not even say anything; what would his father say if he was interested in more than just sex with a maid? He was already struggling to have his attention; he couldn’t throw away his chances to make him proud. But deep down, he never forgot you._

“Leave us. Y/N won’t be treated as a criminal in this palace. I want her to be treated as any high-ranking guest.” He ordered the guards and present slaves who looked at him dumbfounded. You blinked a few times, surprised, was he really…? Before you could think more, everyone obeyed and left the room; you were left alone with the Emperor.

Slowly he approached you, observing you from his height; you could see his eyes detailing you, face and body. What did he have in mind?

“Y/N.” He pronounced your name in a softness you never expected. His tone was almost pleading, a hint of despair in his eyes…he had missed you.

“Your majesty-”

“Commodus. You can call me Commodus…as it were before.” He cut you off, if his words had been different, you would have been startled by his tone without appeal. Although, you felt it wasn’t due to your presence but rather a force of habit; he must have been struggling to make himself heard and respected, maybe even betrayed. And now that you thought about it, you might have heard of such events in the streets of Rome.

“Commodus…” how strange it felt on your tongue to pronounce his name after all these years. “Commodus I never thought I would see you again, they say so many things about you and yet I refuse to believe them.”

“Y/N…” he murmured your name as and paused as if he was battling against his feelings “Why did you steal from me?” you were slightly surprised that he behaved this way around you but it wasn’t as if he had shown himself overjoyed to see you.

“No, I didn't. I was just eating my meal of the day and I saw someone ran past me. The merchant must have thought I was the thief.” Commodus nodded thoughtfully, you were sincere, and he remembered the affection you had for him; secretly he hoped that you still felt the same and that perhaps he could trust you.

You raised our eyebrows at his next action: he was offering you his hand…hesitantly you took it, how strange it felt to touch this warm hand, of a man who had the reputation to kill without mercy and with great pleasure. Somehow, you were one of the few who never believed in such reputation, you knew him; in the memories you had of Commodus, he was gentle, he was affectionate, loyal, fair and playful. To your disappointment, he let go of your hand as soon as you were back on your feet, it still left a mark in your palm and you found yourself wishing you could still hold his hand and you wondered what he thought. Did he not care about this touch? this simple and common touch or was he feeling just as fuzzy about it as you?

On his side Commodus felt a rush of adrenaline. He had done this gesture out of politeness, in a way as token of the past but he didn't expect to feel so much. He hadn’t felt this kind of emotions in years. In a way he had sought them with the sister Lucilla but could never find this feeling he had with you and he found himself wishing to hold your hand again.

“Follow me, to get the wound cleaned up.” He ordered you, starting to walk, heading to his private quarters. Your eyes never left his back, watching the way he walked, his steps confident, you could understand that he was meant to be feared, a man that could fight and kill. And he could feel your eyes on him, he wondered what you were thinking, were you scared? or perhaps you were considering a way to get out of his claws, maybe you believed what everyone said and especially what the senator said.

“Bring wound cleaning water to my rooms and a clean cloth.” he ordered to a slave without stopping to walk, looking straight ahead; you retained a smile, you could feel this was all a mask. He feared to be seen for who he was, and you could only guess it was because he had been hurt, deeply.

As he reached his room, the two guards at its entrance, opened the door for him, eyeing you curiously; why would the Emperor invite a homeless in rags in his royal rooms? Commodus threw them a warning look before entering his bedroom, closely followed by you.

“Sit.” He indicated, pointing at his bed. You couldn’t help but blush, partly in shame, not wanting to dirty the luxurious and immaculate sheets; and partly because you would be sitting on the bed of the most powerful man of the empire, he could do anything he wanted to you…according to the people. But if he was still the Commodus you knew, you had nothing to fear; in fact, you had never felt safer than in his room.

You watched him as he paced in front of you, waiting for the servant to bring what he asked for. Now, that you knew he wasn’t going to hurt you, you took time to detail him, trying to understand what was going through his mind and most of all, how he ended up so wary.

“Now leave; tell that I won’t be interrupted, no matter what kind of emergencies might come up.” He instantly dismissed the slave, took the bowl and cloth from his hands; walking in your direction and sitting next to you on the mattress, closer than you first expected.

In fact, his knee was brushing against yours, it wasn’t much but it was enough to send shivers down your spine. He slightly shifted to turn towards you, his eyes traveling between you and the things he held in his hands. It was as if he didn’t know what to do, or rather how to behave in your presence; should he be the emperor or just Commodus? Could he be himself without risks?

“I am going to clean your wound. Don’t move.” He said, not waiting for any reaction from you, and delicately cupped your chin, yet there was a certain firmness in his fingers. “Your father had a job. Yet you are found homeless. What happened?” he asked you, his eyes focused on your lower lip that he was carefully cleaning.

“The death of my mother broke my father’s heart. He started to drink and do bad work…until he lost his job and a few months later died. My siblings are married, and they left in hope for a better life outside of Rome.” You were the only one who had refused to marry, to leave the state city…deep down, despite the talks in the streets; you hoped the Commodus you loved was still there. He nodded thoughtfully, he felt responsible for your situation; if only he had the courage to oppose his father and requested you stayed at his service.

“How are you?” you asked him softly, looking into his eyes that seemed to bear so much.

“Very well. The People are happy, and the economy of the Empire is going better since the recent treaties I signed.” He listed almost mechanically. His eyes avoiding yours, his whole posture almost tense. Commodus was hiding something, holding emotions inside him…that he didn’t feel safe enough to express.

“I didn’t inquire about the well-being of the empire. I am inquiring about you, Commodus.” You asked him again, you knew he would tolerate your boldness.

His brows furrowed at your words, his mouth slightly opening and his lower lip starting to quiver, tears coming to his eyes and threatening to come out. You could only watch him, stunned by the effect of such simple words. What had happened to him to make him so broken, so protective over his feelings? Slowly, carefully, you brushed your fingers over his hand. His eyes never left your face, but he turned over his hand, your fingers meeting his palm in a gentle hold. A tear rolled down his cheek, how he longed for a friendly touch, he looked down in shame.

“Do you remember when we were children, when we played hide and seek?” you asked him softly, digging into your common happy memories. His hand gave you a light squeeze, yes, he remembered each moment, among the happiest of his life.

“I remember you were a very loyal helper.” He commented; you had been loyal to him, even if you were not his personal helper, at times it felt like it.

“Just a very loyal helper?” you teased him, you felt intimate enough to be so familiar with him. He briefly raised an eyebrow, admitting that there was more to it. His eyes looked up, detailing your face.

“I remember a time where you were more than just a helper…in fact for many years, until the end. You were a…” but he didn’t finish his sentence. His walls were high and thick, could he let them down? And you understood he had trust issues, probably due to the betrayal of his father, the opposition of his sister…despite your young age at the time, you had always felt his loneliness.

“Commodus…I….” you licked your lips nervously, looking down at your joined hands, what you were about to admit could triggered an unpleasant reaction from the emperor, but you had to try and show him you were worth opening to. “I stayed in Rome for you, just for you. All my life I dedicated myself to your service, not just by duty but also because I wanted to, I… always loved you as friend and more…” there you had said it, your heart was pounding in your chest, either the sword will fall upon your head or he will be merciful…his thumb had stopped stroking your skin, and he remained silent. You didn’t dare to lift your head to look at him, too scared you had overstepped; he was Caesar and you, just a homeless girl.

“Look at me Y/N.” you heard him say, his tone authoritative. Yet, you didn’t feel any animosity in it. So, slowly you lifted your head, meeting the Emperor’s icy eyes. And before you could understand, he leaned closer to you, until his lips were upon yours. You retained a jump, not out of fear but simply surprise. The pressure of his mouth on yours was light, almost careful and yet you could feel how much he needed to feel something.

So, you took the initiative and leaned more into the kiss, applying more pressure, moving your lips against his as you felt him even more responsive to it; so, you felt bold enough to push for more, your tongue coming to caress his lips, he opened them to let you in but first you had to tease him a bit, and make him understand he could let down his walls with you.

“Still just a loyal helper?” you smiled, brushing your thumb over his lips. He lightly huffed, detailing your face as he regained a composed expression.

“You are my Y/N, that’s more than enough for your emperor.” His tone was like a caress on your wounded heart. And to your greatest pleasure he didn’t let you reply, capturing your mouth once again, this time the kiss quicker and yet terribly hungry. Your hand went to his hair, burying in his soft locks.

“What would people think of this?” you breathed against his mouth.

“I am their Emperor. I couldn’t care less about the grumble of a few old politicians.” He traced kisses along your jaw, heading down your neck, earning a few moans from you, damn how good it felt, it was hungry, adoring.

“Besides…” he planted another kiss behind your ear “The Emperor united to one of the People will please the mob.” You couldn’t help but giggle, his words and his tone sounded so tough and yet his kisses where the most tender you ever had.

“United?” you asked curious, was he really serious?

“I am going to make things clear. Now that I have you, I am not letting you go. The emperor needs a wife, and I chose you.” He declared, looking at you in the eyes and gauging your reaction.

“Oh Commodus, you were always so passionate.” You shook your head, looking at him tenderly. He was a big softie inside. You tilted your head, approaching your lips from his “And I accept, even if you don’t leave me the choice.” You teased him, playfully before capturing his lips; a kiss sealing this promise. His hand came up to stroke your cheek, his thumb brushing feather-like over your open lip.

“I am going to have a bath prepared for you and those rags will be thrown away. Now you will be dressed by our royal dresser and you will be treated as an Empress like you should have always been.” He murmured, looking at you intensely, a pleased smile on his beautiful lips. And for the first time since your reunion you were catching a glimpse of the real Commodus.


End file.
